


Shove Self-Love Up Your Feathered Hole

by Raven100104



Series: Lucifer Post Finale Series [3]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Deckerstar - Freeform, F/M, Lucifer Morningstar and Trixie Babystar, Lucifer sees other therapists, Post-Episode: s03e23 Quintessential Deckerstar, a little bit of laze, devilfacekink i mean whaaa-, how to fuck the devil out of the devil, premature unfurling? ;), the one where dumbdumb lucifer still has a lot of self-hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-03
Updated: 2018-07-03
Packaged: 2019-06-01 14:11:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15144833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raven100104/pseuds/Raven100104
Summary: Honestly, while Lucifer is happy that the good doctor’s taken some time off, he also very much hates Linda for leaving him to fend for himself. How is it that the entire city of Los Angeles fails to have justoneother competent therapist is beyond him.You see, Lucifer’s been dealing with a… crisis… recently.





	Shove Self-Love Up Your Feathered Hole

This whole “No one will love you until you love yourself” thing is complete and utter bullshit, and Lucifer is so _over_ it.

Honestly, while he is happy that the good doctor’s taken some time off (with _Maze_ , no less… in _Canada!_ Lucifer shudders at the thought), he also very much hates Linda for leaving him to fend for himself. How is it that the entire city of Los Angeles fails to have just _one_ other competent therapist is beyond him.

You see, Lucifer’s been dealing with a… crisis… recently.

Things with the detective have been going well. _Better,_ even, than he could possibly have imagined.

At first it had taken Chloe some time to sort herself out, but Lucifer waited patiently. For once in his bloody existence, he didn’t barge into her house uninvited, didn’t enter a room without knocking, didn’t even go within a mile radius of the detective when she didn’t want him around. After all, Chloe had extended him the same courtesy, for when he very first revealed his Devil face to her, she could’ve run. Should’ve, even. God knows she wanted to. But at the time, Lucifer was gravely injured, alabaster wings having been sacrificed to a shower of bullets in order to protect the only human he’d ever loved, and it was out of question that Chloe abandoned him in that state. So she took him home, fixed him up, kissed his scars until he was a sodden mess, and held him until his wings were whole again.

And then she left.

Lucifer understood. He had been expecting rejection. Cold, on the spot rejection. But Chloe hadn’t rejected him, she just needed time. So Lucifer was going to wait an eternity if he had to, as long as it meant that his detective would return to him.

And on one rare stormy evening in typically sunny LA, Chloe came back. She was drenched to her bones, bags under her eyes. It was clear that she had headed straight over after a particularly tasking case, and as soon as Lucifer laid eyes on her, he did not miss a beat to offer her shelter. The detective shed her rain-leadened Pea coat on the bar top, and Lucifer was already waiting with a towel.

“Oh darling I could’ve come pick you up. You only needed to say the word.”  Lucifer chided softly, concern thick in his voice.

“I know. I didn’t know I was coming.” Chloe shot him a tight smile, almost guilty, as he tightened the towel around her. If anything, Chloe was impressed that he hadn’t so much as make a peep about her now see-through white top that was plastered to her body. He just…took care of her, and lit the fireplace for additional warmth.

 _That_ ’s the Devil? Really? _That’s it_? Honestly what’s everyone so afraid of?

Deep down, Chloe had always known that he wouldn’t hurt her, not on purpose anyway. But for some reason, she somehow thought that that had changed when he revealed his Devil face. Yet, Lucifer was still Lucifer. If anything, he was _less_ ‘Luciferish,’ and more…well, just Lucifer. She had needed time, but seeing him now, Chloe suddenly felt silly for ever avoiding him in the first place. When he burrito’d her in yet another towel as if it were going to dry her faster, Chloe grabbed his wrist.

“Lucifer, I need to take off the wet clothes.”

And Lucifer had the gall to look surprised. Chloe almost laughed at him, wondering if he really was the Devil – and she actually did laugh, _guffawed_ more like _,_ when Lucifer went to turn around to let her undress in privacy.

And then it was as if the universe had turned upside down, because when the very nude Chloe Decker had gone to embrace Lucifer, it was the Devil who blushed like a stammering virgin. Luckily for the detective, he didn’t take long to recover. And after a dozen ‘Are you sure?’s and half a dozen more ‘Are you _really_ sure?’s, Chloe was worshipped like she had never been worshipped before. Those fingers! That _tongue_! She knew Lucifer was smart mouthed before, but not like _this._ And it wasn’t as if he were half-arsing it to get to the proverbial main course, oh _no,_ Lucifer _reveled_ in the appetizer, _savoring, luxuriating,_ leaving Chloe just half a second to wonder if she could have dessert later, and then she was keening, head thrown back mindless ecstasy.

Lucifer waited for her to come back to Earth and contented himself with watching her writhe, so beautifully. Perhaps he even waited a tad too long, for when he came to, Chloe was already hooking her legs around slender waist, urging him forward with an exasperated “Lucifer, _c’mon._ ”

And this was where things went…awry.

Lucifer, self-declared Sex God with a certificate notarized by half of the population of Los Angeles, was supposed to be better. He was supposed to hold out, was supposed to get Chloe to come at least twice more before partaking in the pleasure. And here, he was doing _so well_ , his dearest detective already teetering on the very edge, then she leaned up to claim his mouth, and he _came_ , just like that. And in tandem with his orgasmic euphoria, Lucifer’s wings popped right open.

Like some cheap umbrella with a faulty latch.

And _oh!_ how the detective laughed. She laughed and laughed until tears welled up in her crystal eyes, and then she cried and laughed. How could the Devil be _so, damn, **endearing**_?

In her fit of tearful mirth, Chloe completely forgot about her own pleasure, and sat up, body still shaking with laughter, to wrap her arms around her vexed angel.

While a part of Lucifer found solace in the detective’s delight, he also knew the wings weren’t _him._ Not anymore. He was fallen. He was _the Devil._ The wings were but a reminder of a lack of control, a time when he was caged, ironically. He hated them with a passion, and would’ve no doubt chopped them off once more had it not been for the _one time_ that they had been useful in protecting Chloe. He told himself he’d keep them for a rainy day, just in case, but not this LITERAL rainy day, damn it!

Were these terrible feathered nuisances going to keep popping out every time he let go, which he had no doubt the detective would get him to, with the simplest of touches? Bad fucking Lord.

The mere thought of that sent the Devil reeling, and with Linda’s absence, he had to find someone to help him deal with this as soon as possible.

“Useless. Completely, utterly useless!” Lucifer rambles angrily as he slams the door to the detective’s car.

“This one’s no good either?” Chloe smiles gently, apologetically. She can’t help but feel like she’s the reason why he’s doing all this, but she also can’t pretend to understand her Devil of a partner all the time. Maybe she shouldn’t have laughed at him, but she couldn’t help herself. She remembers that night like it was yesterday, and she remembers her heart being so, so _full_ of love for him, that she couldn’t help it.

“No!” Lucifer throws his hands up incredulously, “The same mumbo-jumbo like all the rest! Kept talking about self-love. As if I don’t love myself enough! I mean look at me detective, I’m irresistible! Anymore self-love I’d be like Father, the obnoxious know-it-all!”

Chloe pauses, a hand on the ignition, but she doesn’t start the car. “Do you think maybe they have a point?” She asks, voice still gentle.

“ _Whot_? Surely not you, too?” Lucifer turns to her, scandalized.

“No sweetie I-” She turns to him, resting folded hands on her lap. It’s almost like she is trying to gently explain an adult concept to Trixie. “I just meant, your father, God, hurt you, and when everything is said and done, the wings still represent the pain he’s caused you, an identity you don’t want anymore. And-and you’re the Devil, free-will, desire, and your Devil face is a representation of _that._ And by associations that you’ve created, you’re trying to get rid of something that is intrinsically a part of you, Lucifer. What you’re trying to do is nothing sort of self-mutilation.”

Lucifer turns away from her in favor of facing forward. “Don’t be so silly detective; it’s nothing of the sort.”

Chloe nods at him, eyes wide. “Right.” Clearing her throat, the detective starts the vehicle. “Right.”

* * *

“Lucifer!” Trixie storms across the house as soon as the door opens, grinning with all her pearly teeth, hurling herself towards the still snippy Devil. Still, Lucifer is used to this, and raises his arms to accommodate the urchin as she tangles herself on his torso.

“Child.” He acknowledges, letting the small girl tug him along to the dining room table without too much resistance.

Chloe follows laughingly after she hangs her keys and pays the sitter, “Monkey, don’t scare Lucifer too much now.”

“What’s this?” Lucifer’s eyes narrow, having seen the mess of crayons and pencils and watercolors atop the array of papers, all adorned with childish masterpieces. But he is focused especially on the one at the very top, the one that the little sh—sugar plum fairy is clearly still working on.

“That’s you Lucifer!” Trixie smiles proudly, holding up the unfinished painting to show the world. And Chloe gasps, half in exasperation and laugh in laughter, as her daughter runs up to her in unparalleled excitement.

“Yes I see that, but why would you draw such atrocity?” Lucifer grimaces, averting his eyes from the doodle version of him with little red horns on his head, and…wings that look more like chicken feathers than angel wings – but the point stands.

“We learned about the Bible at school today, and Miss Perez says that Lucifer is actually an angel who fell and became the Devil. But then she started saying a bunch of bad things about you, so I stopped listening.” Trixie explains, “Don’t you like it?”

Chloe shoots Lucifer a look, as if daring him to say otherwise.

The Devil clears his throat, looking like it would pain him to speak falsely. So instead, he says, “Well, the interpretation is… _accurate._ More or less. Well done, child.”

Trixie cheers, running back to the table with a soft ‘yay!’ to color in the rest of her portrait of her step-Satan. Not that she really _knew_ “the truth,” but she was the one who deduced _“Like the Devil?”_ when Lucifer first introduced himself outside of the principal’s office, so.

Groaning, the fallen angel excuses himself to wash off the remnants of the therapist’s office, or, therapists’ offi _ces_ while the detective offers to prepare dinner. And he really is appreciative of the gesture; he shows as much when he mumbles his thanks, pressing a kiss to her temple. Chloe smiles after him, a soft melancholy as he heads upstairs. Lucifer’s appreciation for the simplest little acts always touches her, for he accepts them as though no one’s ever bothered to do them for him before. Even careless sandwiches thrown together on tardy mornings, Lucifer had eagerly snatched one from out of Trixie’s plate, claiming to be “far larger, and hungrier.” But maybe that’s it, maybe no one _has._ Chloe doesn’t suppose that the almighty God would have time for that sort of thing, and is even less sure that Char- _Mum_ , would be any better. And as far as she knows, Amenadiel has hated Lucifer until very recently, and the departed Uriel has never been close to his most powerful brother. Azrael too, has abandoned Lucifer for eons ( _Weeks turn into millennia, my ass,_ Chloe sneers).

Chloe’s gloomy tune changes when Trixie comes up to her soon after, claiming to have finished the painting. “That’s beautiful baby, where do you want to hang it? There’s not much space on the ‘frige left.”

“That’s okay Mommy. Can we hang it on the door?” The small girl smiles broadly, picking up the tape from the counter.

Chloe smiles, “The door? We’ve never hung things on the door before.”

“Miss Perez says Lucifer is very strong, right?” The detective nods, so Trixie continues, “and you said Lucifer always protects us, so maybe he can protect us from the bad people who tries to come in the door, too.”

“ _Oh._ ” Chloe gasps, then falters as her daughter slaps the picture of Lucifer, angel and devil, onto the white wooden door. She thought her little girl had forgotten about Malcolm’s kidnapping, but it seems like the terrifying case still haunts Trixie in her dreams. Chloe’s eyes linger on the drawing for another moment before going back to fuss with the pots and pans.

Clearly, Trixie loves Lucifer for all that he is. Angel and Devil, doesn’t matter. To her, he’s just her protector, someone who defends her against bullies, who saves her from psychotic corrupt cops, and spoils her with anything she wants (dolls, driving, _cash?)_. It doesn’t matter to Trixie whether he has alabaster wings or demonic eyes, or even none of it at all.

Hell, even Chloe readily accepted a literal demon into her home, to cohabit with and babysit her child, why would any part of Lucifer deter her at this point?

* * *

Lucifer seems to feel better after a hot bath, and engages with the offspring in a contest of who can finish more chocolate cake as Chloe clears the plates. At 3 pieces each, the detective cut them off, confiscating the dessert knowing that any more would make Trixie throw up her whole dinner. But really, the child could put away chocolate cake like it’s nobody’s business.

“C’mon Monkey, brush your teeth and off to bed. You’ve got school tomorrow.”

“But Mommy, I have to beat Lucifer!”

“Listen to your mother child, if it’s a contest you want, then a contest you shall have.” Lucifer promises, quipping, “Tomorrow.”

Content with that answer, Trixie runs off to her room, but not before pinky-promising the Devil. Of all the deals he’s made in his entire existence, Lucifer doesn’t seem to remember ever having to pinky-promise any of those before.

Once the offspring commences her nightly duties, Lucifer props the detective up onto the kitchen counter, hands her a glass of red, and rolls up his sleeves to work on the dishes.

“You know, I’ve been thinking Lucifer. About you.”

“ _Oh?_ ” the Devil raises a brow mischievously, dropping the dish soap back onto the counter. Chloe shoves him playfully.

“Not like that, you ass.” She laughs, but runs a hand down his face all the same. “About what you said earlier. The whole self-love thing.”

Lucifer sighs, picking up the sponge. “Darling, I don’t really want to have this conversation right now.”

“But it’s important, hear me out.” She urges softly, one hand swirling the wine and the other thumbing at the sensitive spot below his ear.

“No detective, they’re wrong.” His voice trembles, Chloe could hear it over the running water.

“Why are you so against loving yourself for who you are?”

“Because the wings – they aren’t me! These so-called therapists were adamant on their ridiculous notion that if I didn’t love myself, no one could love me. But how could I love something that isn’t me in the first place?!” He cries, exasperated. Tired.

“Lucifer, is that what this is really about? It’s not the self-love part, but that you thought no one could love you if you didn’t?”

Lucifer turns to her, brown eyes wide, begging her to not make him dignify that with a response.

“Oh, come _here._ ” Exasperated, Chloe pushes the wine aside, and positions herself behind Lucifer. Grabbing his soapy hands in true Unchained Melody fashion, she rinses them hurriedly under the water and shakes them semi-dry. With one hand grabbing Lucifer’s wrist and another hastily slapping the tap off, Chloe all but drags Lucifer to face the front door.

“ _What_ are we doing detective?” He asks quizzically, brows cinched in confusion. “The urchin’s drawing?”

“Trixie put it there. On the door. Because she thinks that Angel-Devil Lucifer wards off the bad guys. You see him?” She points to the doodle with renewed rigor. “She thinks this man can protect us, and she loves him with all her heart. All of him, with horns and wings. Everything.”

Lucifer turns to her, an unreadable expression on his face.

“And I feel the same way Lucifer. You know that.” Chloe adds with finality.

When he doesn’t answer her, the detective reaches up to cup his cheeks, allowing herself the pleasure of pinching them none too gently.

“Ow!” Lucifer pulls away, betrayed. “Detective!”

“Forget those therapists Lucifer! You said as much yourself, they’re useless! Sure, self-love is important and great, but it doesn’t mean no one will love you if you don’t. Yet.” Lucifer opens his mouth to reject that statement, only to be silenced with a sharp “Don’t interrupt me!” Chloe sighs, reaching out to take his hand in hers. “Let me help you. Me, Trixie, and all your friends.” Then, quieter, she whispers, “Could you let me do that?”

He sighs throatily and manages a pursed smile, and Chloe knows, just _knows_ that she is getting through to him. Sure, they haven’t said “those three words” yet, but that was as big a declaration as any, and she really, really needs Lucifer to understand that.

As the Devil opens his mouth to speak, a sharp voice cuts him off. “Mommy! Lucifer! I’m ready for my story!”

“Coming Monkey!” Chloe calls, but it’s already too late. Lucifer isn’t going to talk now.

Instead, he just smiles, guiding her towards Trixie’s room with a few fingers on the small of her back. “Well c’mon then detective. The spawn summons.”

Sighing, Chloe shoots him a look, a promise to continue the conversation at a later time, and Lucifer only smiles innocently, taking the initiative to sit down by the child’s bed.

“What do you want to hear today, baby?” Chloe kneels, watching Trixie thumb through the collection of children’s books on the shelf above her bed. Then suddenly, the progeny turns to Lucifer, a devilish grin on her face.

“This one!” Trixie pulls out a book, shoving it towards the Chloe. Lucifer peeks, of course he does, and the homicide detective has never seen anyone want to die more than her partner right now.

Sitting on her lap, illustrated in proud yellow and bright blue, is _Bedtime for Baby Star._

And Chloe just could not contain herself. “Baby Star? _Well,_ Lucifer _has_ to do the honors!”

“You can’t be serious-”

“Pleeeeease Lucifer?” The demon spawn adds, her eyes twinkling like the Devil has never seen.

“What do you want me to say? Once there was a baby star, he lived in Heaven, his Father was a di-”

“O-kay!” Chloe cuts him off, “ _I’_ ll read it.”

Happily, Trixie climbs in bed, allowing her mother to tuck her in. Chloe settles on the edge of the mattress, facing both of her children, and begins.

 _Once there was a baby star._  
_He lived up near the sun._  
_And every night at bedtime,_  
_the baby star wanted to have some fun._  
_He would shine and shine,_  
_and fall and shoot,_  
_and twinkle oh so bright._

Lucifer looks down, picking at his nails, expression unreadable.  
  
_And he said “Mommy, I will run away if you make me say goodnight.”_  
_And his mommy kissed his sparkly little nose and said,_  
_“No matter where you go, no matter where you are,_  
_no matter how big you grow, even if you stray far…”_  
_“I’ll love you forever. Because you will always be_  
_my baby star.”_  
  
“Goodnight Mommy,” Trixie smiles as Chloe closes the book, leaning down to drop a kiss on her daughter’s forehead.

“Goodnight baby star.”

And to her surprise, Trixie turns to Lucifer and quips in the most innocent voice humanity has ever had the displeasure of hearing, “Goodnight Lucifer Morningstar!”

Groaning, Lucifer rises, tapping the shrewd little minx twice on the legs as if to say goodbye, then exits the room, muttering, “I knew this would happen. Morning star, baby star, as if I’m the offspring’s father.”

Laughing, Chloe follows him out. “Oh Lucifer, don’t be like that. It was sweet!”

“I’m not _sweet,_ I _am_ the Devil, not an angel _._ You _must_ understand that, detective, no matter what my horrid wings say about me.”

Chloe looks up at him with kind eyes, exasperated at his insistence. “Come.” She says lightly, tugging the man upstairs.

“Look, detective, you’re a good mother, I certainly won’t deny you of that,” Lucifer begins as soon as the door is shut behind him. “And I don’t doubt that no matter what the offspring turns into, you’d ‘love her forever.’ But I’m not her, I’m the Devil. You’re enjoying a part of me that isn’t _me!_ It’s my Father!”

“Wait, hold on,” Chloe shakes her head, incredulous, holding a hand out to stop him. “You think I liked your wings because they’re “good” like God?” She air-quotes, disbelieving. “Look, I’m sorry, maybe I shouldn’t have laughed, but I wasn’t mocking you Lucifer. I didn’t like them because they’re your Father’s creations, I liked them because them popping out when you completely let go is _endearing!_ I liked them because you used them to protect me!”

“What?” Lucifer’s brows furrow. “Not because they’re the only “good” thing you see about me?”

“ _No! God no.”_ Chloe throws her hand up, her throat working double time to keep her voice low. “You don’t have to like them Lucifer, you see them as a lack of control, and that’s _fine._ You think they’re the part of you that represent your Dad, _okay!_ But I see them as a part of you. Your wings, your Devil face, they’re all _you! You_ are the one who saved me using the wings, not your Father. _You_ saved me using your Devil face on who knows how many people, not your Father,”

“You’re saying you like my Devil face as much as you like my wings?” Lucifer asks, skepticism dripping from his voice. He takes a step towards the detective, then another, towering over her. “I know you care for me, but this…surely you must be joking.”

“Well Lucifer, I’ll admit maybe it’s a little…strange, to see your Devil face, but it’s a part of you.” She looks up at him, chest-to-chest, and doesn’t budge the slightest. “And it’s because you’ve shown it to me once, _once,_ of course I’m not used to it.”

“Well of course I’m not going to whip it out in front of you, _detective._ ” Lucifer grimaces, and Chloe can feel the displeasure radiating off him, if the gloss over his chocolate eyes is any indication. “My other face it’s…monstrous.”

“Lucifer,” Chloe admonishes softly, resting two open palms flat on his stomach, then slowly run them to the small of his back, encircling his torso. “You said so yourself, the Devil face is just a reflection of how you feel about yourself. It’s not how I feel about you, and it’s not who you really are. I’m sure everyone feels like a monster at some point, we just don’t have a physical other face to put that feeling in.”

“What are you saying, detective?” He gazes down at her longingly, like a child who just needed validation. And damn, if that’s not Lucifer for the past however many eons.

“I’m saying what I’ve been saying all along. Would I love for you to accept all of yourself? _Of course_ I would. Would I still love you if you didn’t?” She squeezes him, but the pressure isn’t what knocks the breath out of the Devil. “ _Yes._ ”

Taking advantage of the sudden hitch in Lucifer’s breathing, Chloe leans up on her tiptoes and catches him in a kiss – just a soft touch and she is pulling away, leaving the Devil to press his head forward in search for more. She lets him; of course she lets him. Lucifer returns her embrace now, picking her up with a terrifying ease, and proceeds to drop her onto the bed with unparalleled gentleness.

Then Lucifer is kissing her again, from her breastbone back up to her lips, with kittenish licks and nips that make Chloe’s pupils dilate. And she knows what will happen. He will spend ages upon _ages_ taking care of her, her pleasure comes first, always, then he will finally, finally partake once she is on the brim over being thoroughly sated, just to bring her over. But why does he deprive himself so? Doesn’t he know that she would be just as happy to take care of him, to share the love?

Clearly not.

Well, tonight, Chloe isn’t going to take it lying down. She wraps her legs around his hips, and in a detective-like maneuver, flips the Devil over until she sits atop. “Let me.” She whispers. _For once._

After all, it’s a _partnership_ , is it not?

Clever fingers rid the Devil of his bothersome clothing, and as good as he looks in them, Chloe could only curse at his many layers right now. Lucifer’s eyes widen like a flustered deer in headlights, looking like he is about to protest the amount of attention that is on him. Like he isn’t deserving of so much. So Chloe kisses his mouth shut – he’ll just have to relinquish control.

And she makes love to him. Slow, torturous love. Tonight she is going to so thoroughly fuck the self-hatred out of his brain and he won’t even remember he’s the Devil. So she brings him to the brink, then again, then again, then _again,_ but doesn’t allow him to finish – not yet.

And Lucifer is looking up at her with those _eyes,_ sinful lips parted, cheeks flushed with blood, and hair curly now in its sweaty mess. He’s waiting for her to take her own pleasure, but the detective won’t let go, not until she completely and utterly _destroys_ every notion in his mind. “Chl-” She drops herself back down with a vengeance, cutting off anything he could possibly say to get her to reconsider. Lucifer’s eyes roll back, the depraved mouth of his fall wide open.

But Chloe is only human, and feeling Lucifer twitch so achingly inside of her thrusts her right up to the edge – she can’t hold out much longer. It has to be now. “Luc-ifer,” she pants, unable to catch her breath, her own ponytail a disheveled nest. She finds enough strength in her trembling hands so catch his face. His eyes could barely focus. “Your D-Devil face. Show me- your Devil face.”

 _“What?”_ He manages just enough air to exhale out. And if that isn’t the _least_ sexy thing he’s ever heard in his entire life.

_“Show me.”_

Lucifer doesn’t have time to protest, because suddenly Chloe whines so shudderingly in such that if he just so much as _brush_ over her oversensitive bundle of nerves, she would completely come undone. And then Chloe is tugging at his hair. “ _Show. Me._ ”

So he does. Much to his chagrin. What could she _possibly_ wan-

And Chloe just drops down to kiss him without missing a single beat. It’s as if he hadn’t just turned into _The Devil™,_ and she _comes,_ earth-shatteringly violent, walls squeezing tightly around her partner, taking Lucifer with her into ecstasy. As expected, he shoots his wings open with a cry, filling the detective with his traces. She all but crashes onto him, and Lucifer’s arms are instantly around her, coaxing her gently through the aftershocks. The gesture itself must’ve been instinctive, for Lucifer barely recognizes doing it – his body feels like Jell-O, he couldn’t even hear himself think through the mingled pants.

It’s only when Chloe regains enough awareness to pepper kisses to his jaw that Lucifer remembers that he’s still got his Devil face on. He immediately freezes, horrified about what had just transpired. “Detect-”

“What?” She asks, flippant, daring him to speak.

“You’re _really_ okay with that?” He looks to her in wonder. “With my Devil face.”

“ _Yes,_ I don’t know what more you want me to do to prove it to you.” Chloe moans as she pulls off, shuddering at the sudden emptiness, and Lucifer _whines._

“You don’t l-love just the wings, you love the Devil face too.” He whimpers distractedly, this time more to himself than to her. Chloe takes the chance to roll off, landing heavily on his left wing.

Normally, Lucifer would tuck them away as soon as he regains his breath, but now, he suddenly doesn’t feel the necessity in it, especially when the detective is so leisurely lying on it, rubbing her cheek into the softness of the feathers.

So Lucifer rolls over to face her, bringing his right wing along to cover the detective like oyster shells around a pearl. Chloe giggles at the sensation, caressed all over by the softest of feathers on her ticklish skin. The Devil still has his face on, so she kisses him once more for good measure, and feels the bumpy texture of the crimson skin disappear beneath her fingers. Once she reopens her eyes, the face that she knows and loves is back – and he’s grinning, a look that suits Lucifer so much more.

“Darling I don’t know how you do it,” he begins, rubbing a hand up and down her bare arm. “But if it’s all the same to you – my true face and my wings – and you can accept both of them, I don’t see why I can’t put up with this pair of nonsense.”

Chloe reaches up to wipe the sweat from his forehead, letting her palm drag over his face. “Don’t get it mixed up. _This,_ ” she pats his tanned cheek, “is your true face.”

“Well,” he chuckles throatily, a familiar mischief making its way back to his lips, and taps her nose. “seems like you’ve just got some more convincing to do, detective.”

Chloe’s face scrunches up, a _‘don’t touch my nose’_ stuck in her throat, and she moans, still sensitive as hell. The Devil really doesn’t lie when he talks about his stamina.

But when he sneaks a hand between her legs, _petting_ , the detective supposes she can find just a little more love to give.

* * *

 

“This place is _so much colder than home!”_

“Maze, it was your idea to come to Canada.”

“I hate this city.”

“Country. Canada is a country.”

And Mazikeen sniffles, properly _sniffles._ “Lindaaa.”

The good doctor sighs, settling in front of the hearth to allow the demon from Hell to cuddle up against her. “I wonder how Lucifer is doing in our absence.”

“You don’t want to know Linda, you _really_ don’t.”

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to [Hell Hath No Fury (Like A Woman Scorned)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15092306)  
> Threequel to [Falling for the Fallen](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14702742)


End file.
